


Leap of Faith

by QueenCarol



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Carzekiel, F/M, Minor Daryl Dixon/Connie, Minor Ezekiel/Other, ezecarol, fixing it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-05-20 14:32:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19378633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCarol/pseuds/QueenCarol
Summary: She should have stepped out of the room the moment she heard him over the radio and yet she couldn’t move. Last time she and Ezekiel had spoken she had tried to return his ring before running away, leaving everything behind. Now, all that could come of it was pain; pain she deserved, pain she wanted to spare him of, pain that could turn out to be the best decision she’s ever taken if only she allows herself the leap of faith.





	1. The Radio

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:
> 
> Carol Peletier, Sophia Peletier, King Ezekiel, Henry, Jerry, Shiva, and any other recognizable character or plot of The Walking Dead belong to AMC Network and Skybound Entertainment, Image Comics and Robert Kirkman.
> 
> In no way is the author claiming ownage of any of the characters nor is there any economic/monetary gain at any time. The author is extremely respectful of the original creators and is willing to take down this work of fiction if requested.
> 
> No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Original characters are the property of the author.
> 
> NOTE: This story contains Carol/Daryl friendship, glimpses of Donnie and of Ezekiel/Other (Don’t worry it’s a carzekiel story thru and thru)

She should have stepped out of the room the moment she heard him, but his deep voice pulled at her. She had resisted for a couple of seconds but it had been too strong. The part she had tried to block out and punish had reacted instantly by anchoring her to the ground, making her zero in on Ezekiel’s voice until it was all she could hear. Her heart had speed up, her hands had gone sweaty, and she’d been unable to think of anything but the voice on the radio.

She’d only gone into the room because she’d heard the static of the device followed by the crackling as a transmission came in. She knew Judith was always communicating with Hilltop, but the young girl had a touch of the flu and Michonne had sent her to her room to recuperate. She’d probably forgotten to turn off the radio.

“ _The... searching for... mini samu..._ ”

Carol waits to see if the voice she knew so well became clearer. A part of her worries something is wrong. A big part of her spirals into a quick panic that Hilltop is under attack and begs her to rush to the radio and reply, but instead she waits for his voice to come thru, holding her breath and praying, not daring to open the line in case she misses something he says.

“... _King searching for mini samu... over._ ”

He doesn’t sound panicked, or worried, so she quickly pushes back her fear. A quick look at the timetable that Judith keeps near the radio tells her it is a scheduled call which further helps her to calm down.

“ _The King searching for mini samurai. Over._ ”

She shouldn’t answer, she knows she shouldn’t. Last time she and Ezekiel had spoken she had tried to return his ring. She had left him behind, had run away, had done the very thing she’d promised him she wouldn’t do. She had no right, no right at all to even speak to him and yet she can’t move away.

Why is her hand moving to the receiver? Why can’t she stop herself?

She knows this is all going to end in pain; the pain she’s been running away from, the pain she’s been hiding from all while telling herself it is what she deserves, but suddenly talking to him is all she can think about. Hearing him say her name is all that will give her another second to live.

“ _The King searching for mini samurai. Over._ ”

“Don’t.” She admonishes herself, but the receiver is already in her hand, she’s already pressing the button that will interrupt his message and push her voice thru. Her hand trembles as she brings the metal piece near her mouth.

She shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t hurt him this way. He doesn’t deserve it.

“Ezekiel,” she manages to squeeze out through the sudden lump in her throat. “Judith isn’t here. She has the flu. I’ll get you someone else. Over.”

She needs to make a run for it while she still can. She’s told him Judith isn’t here and that she’ll find him someone else. She’s done what she can in not letting him worry or fret over the missed scheduled communication. Her work is done and she can leave and not go down the path of pain.

She’s convinced herself that she’s doing the right thing and the silence that greats her and stretches between them seems to prove it. She puts down the transmitter and turns ready to go search for Michonne.

The static and crackle cut off all movement she’s managed to make. Her heart thunders against her chest almost painfully.

“ _Carol_?”

What has she done?


	2. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol suffers a panic attack but will the fact that Ezekiel blames himself for what is happening give her the push she needs to reply?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:
> 
> Carol Peletier, Sophia Peletier, King Ezekiel, Henry, Jerry, Shiva, and any other recognizable character or plot of The Walking Dead belong to AMC Network and Skybound Entertainment, Image Comics and Robert Kirkman.
> 
> In no way is the author claiming ownage of any of the characters nor is there any economic/monetary gain at any time. The author is extremely respectful of the original creators and is willing to take down this work of fiction if requested.
> 
> No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Original characters are the property of the author.

_“Carol, are you there? Over._ ”

She shouldn’t have replied. She should have left the room, ignored his voice, reminded herself why she had left him.

_“Carol? Over.”_

She should have ignored her heart that insisted she still loves him, kept her mind clear and not told him that Judith wasn’t available.

_“Carol? Over.”_

It’s too late now. He knows she is there and even if she wanted to reply she is unable to.

She can’t breathe. She feels as if the weight of the world has settled on her chest, pushing against her ribs, preventing the air from entering her lungs which scream for some relief. Her eyes flood with tears as her heart beats wildly. The strength in her legs seems to disappear and she crashes against the chair that Judith uses while she’s at the radio.

She knows she’s having a panic attack. Ever since Henry died, ever since she had left Ezekiel’s side, the panic attacks she had once been plagued with had returned. They attack her out of nowhere, her triggers being anything related to her son, to Kingdom and Ezekiel.

Ezekiel.

She misses him so much, just as much as she misses Henry. Instead of being at his side she had once more failed those she loved by self-exciling from those she knows loves her. She doesn’t deserve their love and she doesn’t deserve peace. Her panic attacks only serve to remind her of that

_“Carol, please, are you there? Over.”_

She continues to struggle to breathe. Using her last bit of strength before she passes out, Carol leans forward, opening her legs an pressing her chest against her thighs. With her head between her knees, she tries to catch hold of herself, to regain the ability to breathe and not feel as if her life is about to end.

_“Carol. I’m sorry… I just want to talk to you.”_

She hears Ezekiel’s voice from far away, the ringing in her ears making it almost imperceptible. She knows she has to hold on to something, anything, if she wants to overcome the panic attack without passing out, so she holds on to his voice, forcing herself to listen as closely as she can.

_“You have probably left already and I am a fool for continuing, but if there is a chance, however small, that you are there, I will hold on to it. Over.”_

The position has helped, if only a little, for her lungs to expand. She takes in slow short breaths, trying to make them longer every time she breathes through her nose and liberates the air through her mouth. Slowly her breaths become stronger, deeper and the ringing in her ears lessens.

“ _We miss you, I miss you._ ” She hears Ezekiel, his voice a little clearer now, laced deeply with emotional pain and regret. “ _Our people… my people, ask for their Queen. I have explained what has happened, I have explained our separation, but Jerry’s children ask for their aunt Carol, our warriors have felt the loss of your leadership, and I… I am filled with regret and grief for having disappointed you. I can only pray that one day you shall find forgiveness in your heart for me. Over.”_

She has to have passed out, that is the only explanation as to why she is hearing Ezekiel ask for forgiveness. She has passed out and hit her head and she’s now hallucinating. That has to be it.

Yet, her head doesn’t hurt and she hasn’t moved position.

Why does Ezekiel think he is the one that failed her? That she is the one that must forgive him when it’s her who let him down, who let Henry down? She should have kept a better look over their son, should have stayed with him at Hilltop instead of leaving him there under Daryl's care, should have stayed at Kingdom as she wanted instead of going to investigate the attacked caravan. She hadn’t been strong enough, smart enough, and as a result, her son had died and her marriage had fallen apart.

She had left Ezekiel’s side so that he could allow himself to hate her for her part in Henry’s death, had abandoned him and broken their marriage so that the hate would be easier to come so that he wouldn’t feel any attachments to her and he could hate her with all his being. Ezekiel, in turn, was blaming himself for everything.

It’s wrong. It’s wrong and she doesn’t know how to fix it.

“ _I am remorseful Carol. I now truly understand why you left. If I could fix it, if I could turn back time and do it all over again, I would do it right by you and by Henry. I have no right to request anything of you but if I could have just one moment to talk to you, if I could have the honor of your presence, I would try and make it right. Over._ ”

There is nothing to make right. It wasn’t his fault, it had never been his fault.

Slowly she pushes herself up, her breathing still ragged as she forces herself to focus on breathing in and out. She blinks rapidly to clear her eyes, fights against the dark spots that appear in her vision. A trembling hand raises to the receiver of the radio but she hesitates.

She shouldn’t talk anymore. She knows how everything will end; with more pain for Ezekiel, with more anger and fury she has no idea what to do with, with more heartbreak and loss that neither of them could survive through intact. But the thought of Ezekiel blaming himself, the thought of him thinking their marriage had fallen apart because of him, that their son had died because of him, was too painful to bear.

“ _I am sorry. I shall leave you now, my lov…”_. He doesn’t finish the word and Carol’s heart breaks at the thought that she no longer deserves the term of endearment, even if it was her fault. _“I shall leave you now, Lady Carol. Over.”_

She knows this is her only chance to make it right, to tell him he isn’t at fault, but she also knows that she’s far too emotional, too on the verge of a mental breakdown to do it right. She can hardly breathe much less focus on anything he says or anything she needs to tell him. Carol knows, however, that she will forever regret it if they do not have a moment to talk.

She knows she will later regret the pain it will cause but finally she gathers herself, brushes off her tears and snot with trembling fingers, takes a deep breath and pushes the button that will transmit her voice to Hilltop.

“A week.” She mumbles into the receiver. Carol shakes her head once again, clearing her mind fully and tries again. “We can try and talk in a week. Over.”

Silence feels the room. She’s not sure if he wasn’t expecting a reply and she has thoroughly shocked him or if her words came out more jumbled that she thought they had, but there is no reply, at least not right away.

Her breathing increases once more and she leans her head back to try and clear her throat. The possibility of her panic attack increasing in strength washes over her as she tries to get up, to leave the room that has seen her most recent failure. Her legs tremble, her knees almost buckle, but she keeps on, taking step after shaky step until she reaches the doorway.

She shouldn’t have replied. She should have stayed silent, ignored the voice and saved Ezekiel the pain of knowing she was still alive.

“ _A week.”_ She finally hears crackling through the radio. _“I shall be here, and Carol… I’m sorry.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, bear with me. Ezekiel is not at fault, nor do I believe so, but in this story, he believes himself guilty of his son's death and of Carol leaving him. 
> 
> Don't worry, things will be righted.


	3. Snowball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life with Ed taught her to always be ready, to prepare for every possible reaction, but Ezekiel is nothing like Ed. Her mind is already snowballing and she doesn’t want to hurt him. Enter Daryl and Connie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:
> 
> Carol Peletier, Sophia Peletier, King Ezekiel, Henry, Jerry, Shiva, Daryl Dixon, Connie and any other recognizable character or plot of The Walking Dead belong to AMC Network and Skybound Entertainment, Image Comics and Robert Kirkman.
> 
> In no way is the author claiming ownage of any of the characters nor is there any economic/monetary gain at any time. The author is extremely respectful of the original creators and is willing to take down this work of fiction if requested.
> 
> No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Original characters are the property of the author.

“Whatcha gonna do?”

She’s been asking herself that question, or a variance of it, ever since she left the radio room five days ago, but the answer is complex.

Part of her wants to run away; burry everything she’s gone thru and not face a single thing. Yet, she knows that she can’t just erase the last eight years of her life because they were the happiest she’d ever been. She can’t erase her marriage with Ezekiel because she has never felt more loved and has never loved as she loves him. She can’t erase being Henry’s mother because she loves him as if he had been her own, she had taught him how to survive and had watched him grow until he was ripped from her arms by Alpha.

The other part of her wants to gather her things right away and make her way to Hilltop so that she can see Ezekiel and reassure him that he has nothing to apologize for, to remind him that Henry’s death and their marriage falling apart was not his fault but her own. She aches to be near him, to see his warm eyes, to hear his deep voice, to be held by his strong arms. She needs to remind him that she loves him.

Carol is left in an emotional limbo that almost paralyzes her and prevents her from making a decision.

“I don’t know,” she admits with a sigh.

Daryl has been nothing but supportive, standing by her side when she cries and breaks down and holding on when she raves and screams. He’s been the best friend she could have ever wished for, but it is not his support and arms that she misses. She misses Ezekiel and it’s her fault to begin with.

“Need to talk to ‘im,” Daryl mumbles as he continues cleaning his crossbow. Besides them, a couple of yards away, Lydia trains with the stick but Carol is avoiding looking at her for the time being, her feelings too conflicted to withstand imagining that Henry is the one practicing.

“I know.” Carol agrees with him. “I want to, but...”

She shakes her head as she cuts herself short. She twists the arrow she’s working on, looking at it from side to side to make sure her work is perfect, before letting out a slow sigh.

“I don’t know if I can.” She finally admits as she tilts her head up to look at him over the edge of his crossbow.

She hears the scrapping of a pencil against paper then hears the notebook slide on the table. Turning slightly, she catches the words that Connie has written. ‘ _You won’t know unless you try._ ’

She knows Connie is right but a part of her quickly raises up an emotional barrier that prevents her from agreeing with her. Connie perhaps sees the indecision written on her face because she quickly pulls the little notepad back and furiously writes on it. The movement has caught Daryl’s attention who leans forward to read it even as Connie writes. Carol can’t help but let her lips curl up in a tiny smile as she sees the way her best friend acts. He’s smitten and it’s plain to see.

When Connie slides the pad back to Carol’s line of sight, Daryl is already nodding in agreement. “She’s right.”

Carol raises an eyebrow at him before looking down at the pad and quickly reading what she’s written. ‘ _You have to fix it. You miss him and know it’s not his fault. There’s no point in waiting._ ’

Unable to stop herself, Carol turns to look at Daryl and teases him. “Really? Since when did you become an expert in relationships?”

Daryl ducks his head instantly, his cheeks and the tip of his ears that peak through his hair, turning deep red just as Connie muffles a laugh. Carol knows that their relationship is still brand new and that the only reason she is aware of it is because Daryl confided in her but she can’t help herself. Playfully teasing him has always been something she has been able to do and now that he’s with Connie she has new material to work with. A little bit of light in her otherwise dreary existence.

“I know I have to see him at some point.” She ends up admitting after letting out a sigh of defeat. “It’s not that I don’t want to see him, I do. I miss him so much. I just don’t want to hurt him anymore.”

‘ _You’re jumping ahead._ ’ Connie writes down. ‘ _Talk to him first._ ’

Carol puts down the arrow she just finished working on and reaches for yet another she has to fix. In front of her, Daryl once more leans forward to read the note. “Got yourself a radio meeting to get through first.” He reminds her, once again agreeing with Connie. “Talk to him there.”

“You mean if I don’t have another panic attack?”

She’s always hated having panic attacks, especially now after years where she’s been mostly free of them. They make her feel vulnerable which is something she cannot afford to feel. She needs to remain strong and focused if she’s going to somehow survive having lost everything the way she has.

“He’ll understand,” Daryl assures her. “He’s gotta.”

“I know he will, I know he’ll try and guide me through them. He’s done it before, he’s seen how bad they get.” She bites the inside of her cheek, her mind quickly trying to think of a reason as to why she can’t talk to him. She keeps coming up empty-handed. “I just don’t know if I want to unload all of that on him... again.”

“He loves ya. Ain’t he said that? That he’d always love ya?” Daryl asks her. He knows that the memory of the moment she broke them up is painful to remember but he still mentions it in an attempt to get her to recall Ezekiel’s promise.

“It’s been months.”

“Love don’t work that way, if he loves ya he loves ya, then, now or later.”

She hears the scratching of pencil and paper once more. When the pad finally slides towards her, Carol knows that this time Connie has laid it out for her plain and simple.

‘ _Do you still love him? If you do, you need to talk to him, you need to mend things, you need to forgive yourself and work on building your relationship. What you do from now on can only be based on whether you love him or not. It’s that simple._ ’

Carol doesn’t have a chance to reply before Lydia, exhausted from her training, slumps towards them. She reaches for the water that she’d brought out with her, takes a drink then settles her eyes on Daryl. “I think I’m ready.”

Carol observes as Daryl looks at the younger woman, narrows his eyes as if to judge if she truly is ready, then turns to Connie. Connie gives him a soft smile and a nod. “Git then,” He declares before putting away his rag. He finishes tightening the crossbow and shoulders it on as he gets up. “Right behind you, kid.”

Lydia gives him a sharp nod before turning and moving away towards the gates of Alexandria. Daryl follows behind her, stopping by Carol’s side to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Connie too has gotten up though she doesn’t quite make a move to leave the table’s side. She tears a paper from her notepad and passes it to Carol before offering a smile to her, turning and beckoning Dog with a gentle tap of her hands against her legs. Dog wakes, or pretends to wake up and rushes behind her.

Carol turns to look at them with a sad expression on her face. They are such a family unit and they don’t even realize it. Seeing the way Connie and Daryl take care of Lydia, who has pretty much become their adoptive daughter, reminds her of the way she and Ezekiel used to look after Henry. They had loved the boy despite not being his birth parents and had watched him blossom every single day. She’s happy her best friend gets to experience the wonders of a family, of unconditional love for a child, of having a partner who would go through thick and thin for you, but can’t help but miss her own.

She’d been so stupid leaving Ezekiel, she knows that now. Her grief at Henry’s loss and her anger for the woman that had taken his life had consumed her. She’d been unable to stay at his side, unable to watch him grieve the son that should have been alive, that should have beaten this world. She’d been terrified that he would blame her while at the same time blaming herself and doing everything in her power so that he would stop pretending he wasn’t pissed off at her, wasn’t blaming her. The first weeks after his death they had relied on each other but slowly they had fallen apart, their grief taking them to different places. With the crumbling of their community came the crumbling of her marriage at her own hand in a misguided attempt to let him grieve, to let him work through the stages of grief that would ultimately take him to blame her.

She had run before he could kick her out of his heart.

She had left him. She had hurt him.

Carol has changed in the months that she’s been away; she’s become harder, less prone to smiling, barely sleeping unless she passed out from exhaustion. She runs away from emotion and away from the events that threaten to consume her. She’s reverted to the woman who had stumbled into The Kingdom, locking away the part of her that had waken with Ezekiel’s love. She tells herself over and over that the part of her that had been his wife had been burnt just like all her other incarnations, but she knows it isn’t true.

What if he can’t love whom she’s become?

She knows Ezekiel holds the key to her armor and judging by the way she reacted to his voice, it is obvious that he knows exactly how to unlock her carefully constructed armor without even trying. She’s not sure she likes it; feeling vulnerable is something she keeps trying to avoid but something her soul knows she can be by his side. What if she does end up talking with him, agreeing to meet him, and then ends up pouring everything out on him and overwhelming him? What if she hurts him again by not being whom he remembers?

Can she stand the idea that they might see each other again only to realize they do not fit any longer?

A stray tear falls down her cheek, the sensation of the salty water against her skin pulls her from her thoughts. She reaches up to brush away the offending droplet just as she catches sight of Daryl and Connie once again. They are almost near the gates were Lydia is already waiting for them for their ‘real-scenario training’. They walk side by side, almost no space between them, with Daryl saying something, making sure his face is turned towards Connie before she writes down something on her pad and shows it to him. He raises one hand and makes a sign that Carol can’t quite comprehend but which obviously means something to Connie, who signs it back while smiling at him.

Carol misses that connection with Ezekiel as keenly as she misses him; the way the word would simply shrink down to them and their son, the way they shared personal jokes, the way he held her hand while they walked or draped his arm over her shoulder, the way he looked at her as if she had hung the moon and created the stars and the way she could lose herself in his kiss and his arms, knowing she was safe and protected.

She’s jumping ahead, pondering what to do in every scenario that runs through her head, falling back to the way of survival that had kept her alive during her marriage with Ed in which she had to always be ready for his reaction. She hates it, but she can’t stop herself. Ezekiel, though, is nothing like Edward Peletier was and she’s very much aware of it. She doesn’t need to fret over and over with him, she needs to listen, she needs to see the real him just like he sees the real her.

She loves him, deeply. She has never stopped loving him and she knows she never will. She knows what she needs to do, she’s always known, even when she has tried to deny it.

She loves him.

Carol gets up from the bench and quickly gathers her arrows and bow with an urgency that contrast how she behaved just seconds ago. It’s as if she knows a transmission is waiting for her even though she still has a day before their agreed time. She still has many things to work through, so many things to accept and many more to let go off, but she knows that Connie is right, from now on all she does needs to be based on the only thing she knows is true; her love for him.

She has never stopped loving him. Its time someone reminds him of that.

It’s time she comes home.

**Author's Note:**

> Should I continue?


End file.
